I remember
by Todyo
Summary: Zim has been captured, GIR has lost his memory, and Dib is going genuinely insane out of boredom. Trust Gaz to be the only one capable of fixing everything! ZAGR, they've been together about a year, however this is seperate from my last two works. Second attempt, hopefully improved drastically. Rated M because it's still being worked on but will likely get nastier, hopefully.
1. Prologue

_Hey y'all, looks like I'm back to writing drek to fill up this site with. I'm hoping I've improved as a writer since I posted my last efforts, whoever I shall leave that for the reviews to decide. Anyway,enjoy some feels._

* * *

The little robot shuffled through the waste, wandering aimlessly between the mountains of garbage. He had been living there for months now. He hadn't always lived there, his memory banks had been damaged long ago, but every now and then something would come back to him. There was a lot of green in the memories; a green house, a green man, a green dog. But it all meant nothing to him now, random flashes of a life long forgotten. This was his life now.

Something crunched as he stepped on it, causing him to start. A mouldy, half-eaten taco. Quickly he went to his knees, scanning this strange new thing. That was all he did now, gather information; that was something he was supposed to do, it was very important apparently. But it would never store, he had scanned the exact same taco just a few day before whilst on his never ending loop of the dump where he had made his home.

It did look familiar though, was it something to do with the green man? Or maybe the strange purple girl? He saw both of them in the flashes, they were important too; at least they had been once. He picked up the old taco and turned it round in his hands, cyan blue eyes flashing for a moment. Yes, whatever this strange thing was it was very important! His torso made a metallic groan, like an old factory machine in bad need of repair. He didn't like that noise, but there was nothing he could do about it, his mouth couldn't move.

The sky had begun to darken, black clouds rolling in to blot out the sun. He trembled; it was going to rain today, that was bad. He had no idea why it was bad, but somewhere deep in the recesses of his programming he knew that once he had been told that rain was bad. He stuffed the taco in through the hole in his head, wires crackling slightly as they were pushed aside. He didn't like that either, the electricity hurt him, but it was the only way. Things were stored in the head.

He had made it back to his base before the first drops began to fall; its location was literally the only thing he could remember. It was little more than a rusted old oil drum and a decaying refrigerator, but base sounded right to him. It was really just a place to get away from the rain, and hide from the men. They came into the dump sometimes, piling the waste higher and giving him more information to gather. The first time they had seen him there was lots of shouting and some of them had chased him, but he had made it away eventually. Now he stayed far away from them. The one with the glasses and the big head was the worst though; he always came with cameras and would spend hours trying to find him amongst the garbage.

The robot sat down on a pillow, stained by God knows what, and stared at the wall. Aside from the rust it was bare but for one thing, an old torn photograph. He did this every time it rained, staring at this picture; there was something about it that made him feel better. He was desperately in need of repair; his body ached every day, and his memory was worse than ever before, but looking at that picture helped him to ignore it all. It was faded and stained, but the subjects were still visible. A green man, a green dog, and a girl with purple hair.

Tears welled up in his eyes, he didn't know how it happened, it just did. If he knew what was going on, who these people were or how to find them he would do it, even if it meant leaving the safety of his base, but he couldn't. GIR couldn't remember.

* * *

_GIR! What the hell happened to you?! D:_

_Read the next chapter to find out! Or spam me with messages untill I give up and tell you, I'm not the boss of you._


	2. Malfunctioning Waffles

_SECOND CHAPTER! YAAAAYYYYY!_

* * *

"So can you tell me anything? Anything at all?"

The man licked his chapped lips, considering his words for a moment. He'd worked at the city dump for nearly forty years, and it was pretty obvious. From his beard with the remains of a meal he'd eaten a month ago to his filth encrusted boots, he absolutely stank. However he knew the dump inside and out, he had made his home on the very edge of it, only because he couldn't get planning permission to build it at the very heart of the waste ground.

"Yeah I's seen him. The rest of the guys calls him '_Lil' Rusty_', bin here comin' a few months now I reckon. We tried a catchin' him but the lil' bastard's jus too fast for us, so we jus let him be. He's doin' no harm that I can tell."

Gaz nodded slowly, arms crossed tightly to ward of the cold. It was only early autumn but already the wind was painfully cold, probably something to do with the city's pollution.

"What does he look like then? Anything like the pictures?"

"If they's pictures a him then I'd say they'd look like him!" The old man gave a wheezy laugh, slapping himself across the knee at his own joke. Gaz just intensified her glare. It shut him up.

"Yeah they prob'ly do. Lil' guy, about knee height. Big ol' glowin' blue eyes, all silver like one a them androids they used ta have in the space shows."

Her brow rose ever so slightly. Maybe it really was him; maybe Dib hadn't gone crazy with boredom? But maybe she wasn't going to kill this disgusting old man if he was lying to her; there are many possibilities in life.

"Take me to him, now."

He gave her a strange look, as though she'd just sprouted an extra head. "Listen here lil' missy, ya don' jus go wanderin' aroun mah dump, an ya don' jus go tryin' ta find Rusty. Hell that ther big head fella's bin comin' here for months and all he's got's a bunch a crummy pictures and a whole mess a tetanus shots!"

She took a deep breath, this was too important to lose her temper over. "Then how do I find him?" she replied, as calmly and coldly as she could.

He scratched his chin. "I reckin' he's got himself a regular path that he's goin' round erryday. Bought the middle a the dump, we use markers ta get aroun'. Ya follow the main path till ya get to an ol' car with a big ten sprayed on the top a it, then take a left and yil be on his path." He pulled back the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch. "If ya go now ya might jus' catch em, he's usually aroun' there bout this time. But keep quiet! He spooks real easy like."

Gaz was already gone by time he looked up, turning he could see her violet hair bouncing as she disappeared behind a pile of trash and into the heart of the dump.

* * *

It was GIR alright, no doubt about it. Gaz didn't know whether to laugh or cry, instead she allowed herself the slightest of smiles. It had been so long since she'd lost them, but seeing GIR like this was heart-breaking. There was a huge hole in the casing of his head; she could just make out the ends of wires and circuitry poking out from the metal. As if that wasn't bad enough, the fact he had been still for so long was strangely unnerving. She moved forwards slowly, being as quiet as she could. GIR had clearly changed drastically, so right now, anything could happen.

"GIR?" she murmured as loud as she dared. His head turned sharply, blank eyes focusing on her. Gaz froze, keeping her hands raised.

GIR stood up, keeping his eyes on her. Gaz had to force herself not to vocalise her shock, he was a mess. Beyond the hole in his head one of his lenses had been shattered, his face was covered in dirt and dents that he'd picked up from God knows here. One of his arms looked like it was literally hanging by a wire, though he still seemed able to use it.

"GIR," she said carefully. "Do you remember who I am?"

There was no response, though he did cock his head slightly to one side.

"It's me GIR. You remember your Mistress, don't you?"

His lenses whirred a little as they zoomed in.

She sighed. "Fine. _'Gazzy'_. Tell me you remember Gazzy, please."

GIR started walking slowly towards her. Gaz took a step back, unsure what to do. She had thought something like this might happen, and naturally she was prepared for it. Though shooting GIR with EMP was literally the last thing she wanted to do.

He stood at her feet, staring at her hand. Gaz looked down at him, biting her lip in confusion; she was already reaching into her back pocket for her weapon when GIR's own hand shot out to grab hers. She almost shot him before she realised what was happening. GIR was holding her hand, nothing else.

She smiled a little, no tears though. She had used them all up when they took Zim, now she had to be tough. It was that which annoyed her though, Zim and GIR had made her soft, and now they were gone and she had to toughen up all over again. That was love though, an irritating paradox.

She was pulled from her thoughts by her phone vibrating in her pocket. It was the computer.

"Have you found GIR yet?"

"Yeah," she replied softly. "He's pretty messed up though, whatever they did to him it was bad."

"They probably blew out his Inhibition Unit when they shot him. But since it was malfunctioning anyway he's now as bland as any other SIR unit."

"Probably, I don't suppose we can fix it though?"

The computer snorted. "Your father might be able to fix him in about two thousand years, believe me Irken artificial intelligence is millennia beyond anything a human could even hope of producing."

Gaz frowned, her hand tightening around GIRs tiny metal claws. "That must explain why you're all so messed up you stuck-up calculator!" She hung up and pocketed the phone. The computer was never much help when it came to coping with stressful situations. She looked back down at GIR; he had been staring up at her all the while. She gave him the tiniest smiles. "Come on little guy, it's time to come home."

* * *

_Wow computer, you're a real ass sometimes. Also what the hell are you doing on Gaz's phone? And why is GIR so messed up? And what in the fuck happened to Zim?!_

_Tune in next week for our next thrilling installment! Or whenever I get around to posting it, I don't know._


	3. Operation Impending Doom

Dib tapped on the fish tank, a tiny green squid stared back at him, black eyes looking at him blankly. He could almost imagine what it was thinking.

_"I'm just as bored as you are, but you can leave whenever you want. Stupid human."_

He smiled despite himself, remembering the other little green thing that used to talk like that.

"Excuse me," a female voice interrupted his train of thought. He looked up; the secretary had put down her magazine and was frowning at him. "Could you please not do that? You're disturbing the fish."

Dib turned away from the tank looking dejected. "Do you know if Agent Darkbooty is done yet? I've been waiting here for hours. Where is he anyway?"

"Information pertaining to the whereabouts of agents is classified." She replied with a tut.

"But **_I am_** an agent! I've been telling you that for the past three hours!"

"Your ID expired four weeks ago; I actually went against protocol by not contacting security."

Dib hung his head. "I forgot to get my pass updated." He mumbled to his feet.

The secretary's reply was cut off as a floating comm-screen dropped from the ceiling behind her. The unmistakable, red-eyed silhouette of Agent Darkbooty appeared on it. Other red dots appeared from the darkness behind him, he must have been at a meeting.

"Hello Sarah, I think we're about ready for lunch now. Was everyone alright with McMeaties?" Agreements were murmured behind him. "So just send a field agent out to pick up the usual, though make mine a Diet Poop this time. I seem to be getting rather bloated of late."

A bug flew into Dib's open mouth, getting the attention of Darkbooty as he collapsed choking onto the floor.

"Agent Mothman? What in the name of the Mountains of Madness are you doing here?"

Dib hacked the bug out onto the floor, wheezing as he tried to reply. "I asked to take part in the next interview in Operation Impending Doom," he spat again, just to be sure. "You confirmed I could be in it yourself."

There was an awkward pause. "I see." Darkbooty replied carefully. "Then why are you waiting out here?"

"Oh, you're gonna laugh at this one." Dib stood, dusting off his coat. "Get this; I forgot to update my ID!" He chuckled for a moment, until he realised that no one else was joining him.

Darkbooty's eyes narrowed to red slits. "I think you'll find tardiness in updating agent identification is no laughing matter Mothman. In my youth I too was often late in updating my pass, my arrogance led to the death of ten good men when the agency was overrun by ghouls in 1987."

Dib's eyebrow rose. "Wait, I never heard of ghosts attacking the Swollen Eyeballs."

"They were _'ghouls'_ Mothman. And we who survived the attack vowed never to speak of it again, however if my warning you prevents a similar disaster in the future then I believe it was worth repeating."

"But…"

"Now get out of my sight, and don't come back until you're ready to take this seriously. Darkbooty out." And with the screen flickered off.

"**_NO!_**" Dib yelled, jumping to snatch at the screen as it floated back up into the ceiling. "Please Agent Darkbooty, I'll never update late again I promise! Just let me have that interview, I need it!"

Dib didn't remember much after that, though he assumed the hand that dragged him backwards by the hair belonged to a security guard, and the wall he was thrown against was the one behind him. But how he ended up in a dumpster behind McMeaties he had no idea.

He sighed, rubbing his bruised head and lying back on the bags of trash. It was already night time; the stars were coming out, twinkling down on him, like they were mocking him somehow.

Dib shut his eyes tightly. "No way, you're not gonna make me say it!"

They kept twinkling.

"Never, ever, ever! Even if it was true I wouldn't say it, and it isn't, so why would I?!" He peeped up again, the stars declined to respond.

"**_FINE!_**" He sat up, screaming at the sky. "**_I MISS HIM! I MISS ZIM!_**"

The stars didn't respond, though he got an answer of sorts. A bag of garbage was thrown in, bursting over his head and showering him in junk. Dib just shut his eyes; it wasn't like things could get any worse.

* * *

_Awww! It would be cute if he wasn't actually going insane. _

_Anyway, what's up with the Swollen Eyeballs? And why was Dib so keen to have that interview? And what the fuck is 'Operation Impending Doom'? Plagerists are stealing the Tallests' ideas!_


	4. Humans have useless data streams!

They hadn't spoken since the day Zim was taken. Gaz had shouted and screamed until she was spitting blood. The Membrane house had been torn upside down. Every plate had been thrown at Dib's head, tables had been flipped, the TV was smashed by a misjudged kick. One of the kitchen chairs had even been shattered against the wall as it was hurled across the room. She had only calmed down when Dib escaped into his room and barricaded the door. Then the crying had started, but no one had seen that.

Now though she wouldn't even acknowledge his presence. He still tried to talk to her though, still protested his innocence and tried to reach out to her, but Gaz was inconsolable.

She did acknowledge him when he came home that day though, even if it was a barely audible sniff as he entered the room. But he did stink terribly; any other right-minded person would have left. Not Gaz though, leaving the room would mean acknowledging that the repulsive smell was connected to someone.

Dib slumped down onto the couch, sighing heavily. It had taken him an hour to walk home, plenty of time to acclimatise to the smell of rotting meat and special sauce. He was fairly convinced now that the secret ingredient was bull semen, though why he thought so was not something he wanted to dwell on.

"Man, what a day I had." He looked over at Gaz; she was focused entirely on her new Game Slave. He had bought it for her as a peace offering. That was the last time she had looked him in the face, and he was sure she had barely resisted the urge to claw it off.

"I didn't even go to the dump, surprising or what? I had a meeting with the Swollen Eyeballs instead," Gaz's own eye twitched ever so slightly at the name. "But I forgot to update my pass so they threw me in a dumpster! Actually, I probably should have gone looking for GIR instead; I'd smell better for it!"

He laughed at his own joke, looking at his little sister. He was used to her ignoring him, even if the past few months had been worse than ever, but he was trying his best. He still tried to walk her to school, sit with her at lunch, talk about everything paranormal; just like they used to before everything had gone to shit. He had even promised to find GIR for her to prove he had nothing to do with Zim disappearing, still claiming it was a disappearance rather than a kidnapping. He didn't realise it was the lying that really made her despise him.

Gaz flipped her Game Slave shut and stood up, cracking her back as she stretched. The smell was becoming overwhelming at last. She started towards the stairs.

Dib frowned until he realised what had happened. "Uhhh, I'll go use dad's chemical shower in the lab I think…night Gaz!"

"Wow," the computer toned from her open laptop. "I could feel the sibling love from up here."

Gaz gave the monitor an icy glare. "Have you had any luck communicating with GIR yet?"

A frowning face icon appeared across the monitor. "It's next to impossible in my current state. He might be made of Irken junk but he's still more advanced than anything on earth, besides your data streams aren't fast enough. I feel like I'm writing the history of the universe one atom at a time!"

Gaz shook her head, trying to clear the sleep from it. GIR was sitting underneath her desk, holding onto one of her guard bears, a cable trailing from the opening in his head and into her laptop.

"Has anyone ever told you that you should focus more on the positives?"

"The only company I've had my entire existence was a pile of screaming junk, a clinically insane defect, and you. And you're saying I'm not positive?"

Gaz clenched her fists so tightly the joints cracked. "Give me some good news or I'll find some new shock videos or you to download! You liked the one with the eels, didn't you?"

The computer would have puked; instead it made a retching noise. "Right away Mistress…" The screen blinked from Gaz's screensaver, an old picture from when Zim had agreed to go on vacation with her family, to a stream of Irken data.

"This is an on-going reading from GIR's data stream. I'm afraid I can barely scrape the surface, however GIR has always been more in touch with his 'emotions' than a typical SIR unit, which means whatever he's feeling is easier to read whilst he's wired up to me.

Gaz sat on the end of her bed, tapping her boots against the desk. "And? What does it say?"

The computer paused for a moment. "It's not very pleasant…"

"I want to know." Gaz insisted, glancing under the desk again. GIR was staring at her again.

"He has literally no idea what's going on. I mean he never really did, but before this his defected sensors had managed to cobble together a warped image of the world, now they can't hold any information long enough to store it. He's literally got a three second memory. Not only this, his memory bank has taken huge damage. It went into Crisis Mode after he got hurt."

"And Crisis Mode is what exactly?"

"Basically, he ditched all information not deemed important to either the mission or survival. If you want an example, he has no idea what junk food is anymore."

Gaz's eyes widened in shock. "You're kidding?" GIR without pizza? Or chicken, doughnuts, or Mexican food? Unthinkable.

"However," the computer continued. "It appears that we've been stored as vital data. Me, you, the base, Zim, and his disguise. This means he remembers us to some extent, the trick now is working out how much."

Gaz was on her feet, heading straight for her closet. "Get some of the old pictures up! Use the ones from last summer, they're more recent!" She found what she was looking for almost at once, a little green dog costume, complete with nacho cheese stains.

"GIR," she murmured, crouching down to get under the table. "Do you want to put on your disguise?"

Blue eyes stared back at her.

She frowned. "If you put on your disguise, I'll let you sit on my knee next time I play a video game. Does that sound good?"

It took a moment for him to process the new information, she could hear the gentle crackle of electricity as he worked it out, but eventually he came out from under the table. She managed to pull the wire out from his head before he pulled the laptop with him.

After a minute of awkwardly moving his arms and legs, GIR looked almost normal again. His silence was still disturbing, not that Gaz would admit it. She picked him up and hugged him, the dog costume still felt soft. It was comforting, even if it smelled of mothballs.

"Okay GIR, let's try and jog your memory." She held him on her knee as she scrolled through the pictures on her hard drive. They were mostly old vacation shots, with a few random ones from the day GIR had stolen her camera.

"Now," she began, clicking on image of Zim, sulking under the shade of a parasol. "Do you know who that is?"

GIR stared blankly for a second. She frowned, if anything the bulbous eyes of his costume were even worse than the blank lenses.

"Maybe try one without his disguise?" The computer suggested, switching to a picture taken in a nightclub. Gaz had only taken Zim there to annoy him, he hated the music and having so many disgusting humans around him, but it had given him the opportunity to go out without his contacts in. All the clubbers had just assumed his ruby eyes were contacts themselves. Gaz smiled at the memory, Zim had been so confused at all the random strangers coming up to compliment his awesome eyes.

"Good idea," Gaz pointed to Zim, his face a mask of horror as he was taken into a bear hug by a group of English soccer fans who had been out that night. "How about now GIR? Do you know who it is now?"

GIR trembled slightly on her knee, but eventually he gave a slow nod. Gaz smiled a little, the computer played a triumphant tune and animated streamers fell across the screen.

The image quickly went to a group shot her dad had taken when they had been out to dinner. Dib, Gaz, and Zim sat around a table, all pretending to be happy. Dib had been about to throw his drink over Zim just moments before, until the Professor had decided to appeal for calm. He did it anyway after he found out Zim had poured hot sauce into it.

GIR shot out of her lap like a rocket, heading straight for the door. Luckily the computer had managed to hack into her house's security system, a robotic claw dropped from the ceiling to grab the little SIR unit before he could get away.

"Uhmmm, I may have forgotten to mention that Dib's been remembered too…" he explained, clearly embarrassed at his mistake.

Gaz pinched the bridge of her hose, fighting off the urge to punch the monitor and taking a deep breath. "So basically if Dib goes anywhere near GIR, he's going to flip out and run?"

"In as many words. Uhh, my bad."

Gaz rolled her eyes, getting to her feet to pull GIR from the claw's grasp. "I think that's enough for tonight then." She held GIR up to eye-level, the pupils of his disguise completely unfocused. "GIR, you are under orders not to leave this room without my permission. Understand?"

He nodded, slipping out of her hands and hopping up onto the bed and curling up on a pillow.

"I guess you can sleep there then." She muttered, sitting back down in front of the computer, reclining the seat to stare up at her ceiling.

"Do you…want to talk to _'Zim'_ again?" The computer asked, unsure whether it was wise to break her concentration.

She leaned her head forwards to look at the monitor. "I thought you said I should stop doing that?"

"I said you shouldn't do it _'so often'_. But I guess I can make an exception now if you want."

Gaz smiled a little. "Yeah, that'd be nice."

An image clicked onto her screen. There was Zim, sitting in his lab, exactly as she remembered him.

"Hello little Gaz." The image smirked at her. "Such a pleasant surprise to have you calling again."

Her smile faded, all the conversations started like this, her calls were always a _'pleasant surprise'_. She had to remind herself sometimes that this wasn't Zim, at least not the Zim she knew.

"Hey Zim." She began, wondering if she should just leave the conversation already, but she pressed on. She needed to talk to him, even if it was just a copy. "I found GIR today. He was in the City dump."

"GIR was in the dump?! I thought he was upstairs! He must be filthy, **_bleh!_**"

She rolled her eyes. "Then he must have gone out. But look, he's got a giant hole in his head. Is there anything I could do to fix him?"

Zim's face paled. "What?! How- never mind! Bring him to the base right away, I'll need to fix him or he could put us all at risk!"

"I can't Zim," she gritted her teeth. "I have to do something for him here, is there **_anything _**I could do?"

"What are you talking about you stupid human? There's no way you could even hope to fix him! Now cease your questioning and bring the robot to Zim!"

Gaz shook her head. It was hopeless. "I'm sorry Zim, I can't. You're not real." She closed the screen and went back to staring at the roof.

"Zim's going to have a lot of weird memories waiting for him next time he goes to back-up his PAK." The computer joked, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't help though.

"Yeah." She agreed, not really listening. She had hoped GIR might have some idea where Zim was; even if he didn't know himself the computer had told her that he would have Zim's exact whereabouts somewhere in his data stream. A digital link between the SIR and its master's PAK. That had been a huge let down. The computer could do nothing either, not unless she hooked her laptop up to a military radar system and prayed it might just be advanced enough to lock onto Zim's PAK signature without exploding. The only other option was to get Dib to tell her where the Swollen Eyeballs had taken Zim, and hope that they hadn't decided to dissect him already…

"I'm going to bed." She announced. Those thoughts weren't worth dwelling over; she had to focus on the positives. She had GIR back. That was a start. Now she just had to find Zim.

* * *

_Okay, so what has been established? GIR has no memory, the Computer is on Gaz's laptop, Dib misses Zim (a lot) and is being blanked by the Swollen Eyeballs, and Zim is missing presumed kidnapped and Gaz is trying to track him down to get her love-pig back._

_Everyone up to date? GOOD!_


End file.
